


Ring Of Fire

by accidentalrambler



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Klaroline, Mates, Mythical Beings & Creatures, also, although I wouldn't call them graphic, because DUH it's Klaus and Caroline, but it didn't fit with the flow of the story for me, but there's no smut, for which i am sorry, hybrid!Klaus, it's rated Mature, klaroline vacay, there are mentions of violence, there are some heated moments though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:16:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7698019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accidentalrambler/pseuds/accidentalrambler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While searching for a solution to bring Kol back from the dead, Klaus meets someone unexpected on his way. Her gaze stays unwavering as she stares back at death and the fire in her sets up a challenge he cannot help but take. And then there's this tricky little thing of them being mates.</p>
<p>Canon till Kol's death in season 4, except Caroline has never lived in Mystic Falls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ring Of Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coveredinthecolors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredinthecolors/gifts).



> Honestly, I have no idea how this turned out the way it did but I hope you like it, Luiza! It's canon till a certain point, it has a bit of angst and then a case of KC UST plus Klaus that is hopefully a bit more IC than the one on TO. I loved writing this for you and I can only hope you won't be disappointed :)

* * *

 

_"And I fell into the ring of fire"_

_(Johnny Cash 'Ring Of Fire')_

 

_[Mystic Falls]_

 

He was staring at his body for hours. Days. Locked in that damn living room.

Over the centuries, Klaus had studied and perfected a great number of torture methods - invented quite a few of them himself - and yet, burning had never been among his favourites.

The tang of burnt human flesh was quite...unbearable. That acrid, sickly-sweet smell that invaded nostrils and stuck to your tongue, lingering there forever.

Honestly, there were techniques far superior for obliterating someone, for breaking their spirit.

And in that house, it reeked so fucking bad that, had it not been for the fact vampires didn’t get sick, he would surely hurtle his guts all over the floor.

Especially given it was his little brother’s body that gave off that smell. It was his smell that stuck to Klaus’ skin.

Kol, lying dead on that mundane tasteless floor, his body ashen, and his face, for the first time in millennium, blank. No sign of amusement carving his features or a vicious smirk that would curl his lips, eyes vibrant, laughing, flashing with spark.

Memories of thousand years rose in his throat like bile, bitter, burning, bellowing bells that resounded in his head, leaving such...blankness in their wake.

Blankness and then, as if from the ashes that covered Kol’s body - rage, flames rising higher and higher, licking at his insides, like sharp teeth gnawing at the festering wound.

Shadows and screaming wraiths, flashing through his mind - Kol’s reckless laugh, biting voice, sinister smile.

Slowly, ever so slowly, his eyes shifted away, scanning the room until they landed on photographs perched up on the drawer.

Two young faces, looking right back at him, laughter in their eyes that seemed like a blatant mockery of his loss.

_Oh, but the rage._

Jeremy Gilbert. Doppelganger.

The Salvatores, those bloody fools.

As soon as this pesky spell, containing him, forcing him to stare at his brother’s body, was broken, there would be no lid to put on his fury. No barrier strong enough to hold this all-consuming rage.

Let them carry out this last folly, foolish quest for cures and mindless pursuit of something that probably didn’t exist.

They would all be dead soon enough.

With hard taps against the screen, he started calling his siblings, message of Kol’s death clipped out in a hollow short syllables. He didn’t wait to hear their grief.  
Now was not the time for it. Right now, they needed to get him out of here.

And they did.

With screams and blood, they painted the town red.

 

*****

 

There was no cure. There never had been.

Klaus had never hated to be right more. What good was it, what satisfaction could he drawn from it now, that his brother’s death turned out to be completely pointless?

Once they succeeded in getting Kol back, he would take great pleasure in pointing out how wrong his little brother had been about Silas and the cure. A little mockery to train his sarcasm muscle, probably a little limp after his stay on the Other Side.

But for now, they needed to gather all the ingredients for the spell and find a witch strong enough to perform it.

And there was one place they would be sure to find them.

 

*****

 

_[New Orleans]_

  
They had arrived with blood still warm on their tongues, the doppelganger's cries of agony still echoing in Klaus’ ears, the sweetest little tunes of death. With some persuasion, Marcel had welcomed them in the city (more or less), offering his resources and the local coven of witches at his disposal.

There was a shadow of suspicion flickering in his former protégé’s eyes, causing Klaus’ lips to stretch in amusement. Marcel was afraid they had come to take what was rightfully theirs.

Good.

But the truth was, Klaus had little to none interest in taking back New Orleans. The city was bursting with life and magic and art and it all surely held its appeal - he could definitely stay here for a little while, even if only for the sake of torturing Marcel with his presence and uncertainty. But what was one mere city for the most powerful being on Earth? Playing a conqueror could prove extremely amusing but in the long run, ruling, policies, diplomacy - it was too much of a hassle when one could dissolve a disagreement with a swift snap of neck or draining a particularly troublesome body of its blood.

Within the first few hours of their stay, they had learnt of Davina and...persuaded Marcel that a young witch would come to no harm while performing a spell for them. And now, the only thing left to find was another source of great power to sacrifice in order to bring Kol back. Doppelganger, dead and scattered around Mystic Falls, was out of the question, same for the Bennett witch, who had managed to flee the massacre and was currently in hiding.

Luckily, under the joint pressure of Rebekah, Elijah and himself, French Quarter witches decided to cave and offer one of their own as a sacrifice, with little to none defiance.

How perfectly convenient.

He was a bit disappointed, to be honest. At least they could have a decency to put more of a fight.

Strolling the alleys of Lafayette Cemetery, he stopped by one of the more opulent tombs, eyeing the witches gathered there. One of them, a middle-aged, brown-haired woman, strode forth to welcome him, an overconfident half-smirk plastered over her mouth.

Bastianna. One of the elders.

Despite the appearances, he could smell her fear, see the muscles straining under her robe, flexing in an attempt to gird her body for escape.

What a fool. His siblings had already set up a perimeter around the cemetery, a dozen of loyal witches and warlocks they had obtained throughout the centuries nullifying the powers of the coven with their joint spell.

There was no escape. And, had they decided to reject his benevolence and betray him, the coven would soon discover their powers didn’t work quite like they’d used to.

“Hybrid,” she gave him a slight nod.

“Witch,” Klaus drawled in response. “Do you have what I came for?”

Another nod.

His brow drew up expectantly. “Well?”

The woman snapped her fingers and two more witches emerged from the mausoleum, a beautiful blonde between them, her hands in shackles. Klaus felt a strange pull, something prickling under his skin, both unsettling and euphoric. His monster roared, begging to come out and play, and he could feel the slowly protruding veins under his eyes, eyes that must have been glowing with gold by now, as he took in her form.

Reigning his features back to normal and into cold indifference, he admired her sun-kissed tresses and the ivory skin, painted with a few little freckles in the most intriguing places.

In the shadow cast by her eyelashes. In the corner of her mouth. On her collarbone.

What a delight it would be to paint those. More so, to track each and every one with the tip of his tongue.

So lovely. _Such a pity she was to die soon_ , a detached thought crossed his mind but as soon as it did, something deep in his body groaned in protest, like a sharp howl of his wolf.

_No_.

Ignoring the pang of unknown emotion in his gut, Klaus titled his head, boring his eyes into the blonde with unrelenting steady gaze. Something that made most people cower before him, cringe in hopeless fear.

And he revelled in all of it. Puppeteer with his handy little dancers, taking just the steps he needed them to, steps he had predicted – just like this coven of witches.

Only the blonde was clearly refusing to dance, meeting his gaze defiantly, chin jutted forward.

_Oh_.

How intriguing.

Especially since Klaus couldn’t detect any sort of magic within her. And if there was something, it wasn’t particularly impressive. This meant, he concluded with anger thrumming in his veins, that the witches thought it appropriate to deceive him.

He lurched forward, pinning the elder witch to the wall by her throat, her painful shriek brushing against his face. The rest of the coven members pulled back, their eyes focused and hands straining to find their power, panic setting in their features as they realized what he had already known - they were defenseless against him.

“Do you take me for a fool, witch?” he seethed, fingers digging deeper into her skin.

“She’s young,” Bastianna choked out, breaking out the syllables bit by excruciating bit. “Her magic’s bound. But sacrificing her will do the trick. Bring back the one you want.”

“Bound? And why is that?” Klaus asked with mild interest, taking pleasure in the tinge of deep purple spreading over the face before him.

“She was growing too powerful. It would unbalance the nature.”

His eyes flicked towards the blonde in question, finding, with a tad of surprise, that her gaze remained unwavering. As if the blood slowly sipping from the corner of her elder’s mouth or her red-stained eyes, dulled by lack of oxygen, didn’t bother her at all.

Given the woman was ready to give her away to certain death, maybe it didn’t.

Too powerful to let her stay that way - Klaus stifled the lick of curiosity against his mind at that piece of information. Whatever it was, she would do as a sacrifice and that was all that mattered. Even if, in spite of himself, he couldn’t help but notice how similar their situations seemed to be. He too, knew very well what it was like to have your true self locked away, trapped under the heavy chains of a spell, incomplete, always yearning.

His wolf growled, craving to cut the distance between, to soothe her with his touch and lick the dried tears off her cheeks. He needed -

_Not the point_ , Klaus scolded himself internally. Back to business now.

Bastianna slumped to the ground as he released her from the steel grip of his hands and stepped towards his little blonde sacrifice. The closer he got, the more he could feel the subtle thrum of power deep in her bones, stubbornly flowing through the veins, so ready to burst to the surface.

“Witch, unbalancing the nature? How peculiar,” he remarked with a hint of amusement in his tone.

“She’s not a witch.” Came a short response and Klaus’ eyes shot towards the girl, cold, assessing. Again, she bravely held his gaze. It was unnerving, really, making him all that more irritable.

“Enough with the puzzles! Tell me everything. Now.”

All her hesitation evaporated as she blurted out, “She’s a phoenix.” Then added after Klaus’ incredulous chuckle cut through the cemetery, “A shapeshifter, obviously.”

“I thought they were extinct.”

“They are. We traced back her lineage when she was born into the coven. She does have ancestors who practiced fire magic but we weren’t able to figure out why her abilities decided to show when they did. To show at all.”

“And when did it occur exactly?”

“Two years ago.”

The world around him stopped, silence, dead silence licking at his eardrums and heart thumping against his chest.

That was when he had broken his curse.

With all the possible implications drowning Klaus’ mind, his wolf pushed his steps towards the blonde. Looking at her curiously, he asked, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

A huff. “What do you care? You’re gonna kill me anyway.”

“Perhaps I could be persuaded otherwise.”

Her eyes glimmered and he could swear a flicker of red burned in there, the golden tresses jouncing as she shook her head, clearly peeved.

She was stunning.

“Look, buddy. One, you don’t strike me as someone who can be convinced not to do something they’re clearly set on doing. Two, I’ve had a crappy day as it is, you know, being sold out by my own coven and all, so excuse me while I don’t rush to entertain you on my deathbed.”

A delighted smirk began to curl his lips as she rambled, his wolf wanting to bark back, to play. His eyes scoured the gathering, the witches' frail bodies trembling, helpless now with their power dulled, not one of them willing to meet his stare.

Pathetic.

Then he focused back on _her_ , sharp tongue and blazing eyes, bound, broken but unbent as she stared into her death’s eyes.

That was interesting. Highly so.

“It appears, ladies, that there’s been a change of plans,” he sang cheerfully before plunging his hand into the chest of the nearest witch.

 

*****

 

Her name was Caroline.

He liked how it felt on his tongue.

The French Quarter witches did well as a sacrifice for Kol - he’d turned back to his annoying self in no time, making Klaus regret that they had brought him back so swiftly. He could do without his pest of a brother for a decade of two.

Caroline was back to her true self as well, it seemed. As soon as the witches had been killed, the spell holding her had broken too.

It had been spectacular. _She_ had been spectacular, Klaus mused, thinking back to moments just after the ritual.

With a loud crack, her back arched, bones groaning as wings emerged, attached to her shoulder blades. Fiery, with gold and blood red melting together, shimmering with the glow like nothing out of this world. Fire burned in her eyes, so bright, so high and then talons grew from her nails and her features turned into unearthly mask of hunger and rage.

Klaus had never seen anything so exquisite.

And that pull he had felt the first time he’d seen her, it was there, stronger than ever, burning as violently as that flame caressing her eyes. Seeing her hurt, her screams of pain clawing at his ears, it scorched him so deep, the need to close the distance between them, hold her in his arms and shield her - ravenous.

It had taken everything he had to keep his wolf away.

And deep down, beneath the layers of all the fears he would never admit he had, Klaus knew what it meant.

She was his mate.

_Fuck._

 

*****

 

“Once more.” A voice jolly to a point of being _freaking irritating_ sang in her ear as she tried and failed to summon fire for the hundredth time.

Caroline had no idea why Kol Mikaelson, the Original vampire, had taken it upon himself to train her. Judging by the mischievous glint flashing in his eyes anytime he mentioned their sessions around Klaus, it was only partially because of his proclaimed love of magic and more due to enjoyment he drew from pissing off his older brother.

Why hadn’t she left yet? That was one loaded question and Caroline was determined to put off answering it as long as possible. Staying with Originals had definitely been one hell of a challenge, with Rebekah and her temper-tantrums, Elijah’s suspicious gaze following her every move and Kol’s incessant taunts.

But there was something about this family. This fierce determination with which they hunted down their enemies, that icy resolve gleaming in their eyes as they watched their brother being brought back to life - gathered around the ritual site like wolves, adamant in making certain it happened. They could’ve spent most of their time together on petty bickering and death threats but loyalty like this? It was carved in bones.

And it was a sentiment she had always lacked, had never been offered.

Then there was _Klaus_.

Klaus, whose gaze caressed her skin like a soft flame of a candle. Steel, sizzling hot, flowed through her veins as her pulse raced, the feeling of awareness surging though her body on a violent tide whenever he was near.

Yes, Klaus might have been the reason she had, in spite of all common sense, agreed to staying with them for a while.

Since her powers had manifested two years back, there was always this emptiness, longing within her that had nothing to do with her magic being bound. Because now that her monster was technically free, this feeling was still lingering there, deep in her bones, even if partially satiated by the pull of her powers.

Only subsiding when the hybrid was close by.

In the choice between fleeing and investigating further, her need for control had won over any apprehension towards Klaus.

At least for now.

“Focus, little one.” Again, that voice, like a bug buzzing in her ear.

“I’m trying,” she rasped, a faint twinge of power grazing at her fingertips.

With a quirk of his brow, Kol baited, “Really? And here I was thinking you were busy daydreaming about my brother.”

Her only response was a huff, blonde curls springing with the shake of her head. Something tickled under her shoulder blades, fleeting as it was.

“You do have a peculiar taste in men, darling. Nik did intend to kill you, after all.”

Silence. And then, a harsh breath.

“Perhaps you could put everyone out of their misery and just shag him already? The sexual tension is getting a tad uncomfortable even for me,” he goaded more and more.

Caroline just wanted him to stop talking and planting those ideas in her head. Her imagination could be quite creative all on its own. As if of their own accord, images of her and Klaus crawled into her mind, heat spreading over her body and coiling down in her stomach. She could feel the wings pushing against her back and fire magic rolling off her in waves but...

Using magic was a lot like stretching muscles. And she hadn’t weaved hers in two years and even then, it had been cut short, brief - not to the full extent of her abilities.

She had grown fucking rusty.

Unsurprisingly, Kol had kept talking.

“Such a shame, really. A tasty little thing like you? I’d love a little bite too, you know?”

Something inside her just snapped. A fuse lit and she felt a low thrum of power breathing under her skin, whispering in her ears. Caroline listened to its voice, to the fury, pain and frustration of being caged for so long, controlled and repressed.

Kol’s scream cut through the room as his back smashed into the wall. For a moment, she was able to hold him with the grip of her fire - it licked at his body, not hot enough to burn. Faster than she cared to admit, the effort took its toll on her, making her body weaken and her magic retreat.

Her wings didn’t show.

Slowly, Kol slumped to the floor, the widest self-pleased grin stretching his face. “Finally, darling. I was getting a tad bored.”

“You’re such an ass,” Caroline scoffed at his antics but it was light-hearted, with a subtle feeling of contentment settling over her.

And then she laughed.

 

*****

 

He was waiting in her bedroom.

Caroline was aware of his presence as soon as she pulled on the doorknob, a flame inside of her lifting its head, its blazing roar reverberating in her veins. Sprawled gracefully on her bed, Klaus fixed that wild, intense stare of his on her as soon as she crossed the threshold. That strange sensation came over her again, the one pawing at her since their first meeting. Both peace and a tide coming over her, a rush to feel, to touch, to soar.

What would it be like, to paint his skin with the fire in her fingertips?

Stifling her body’s reaction to him, she bristled instead, “Sure, make yourself at home.”

That annoying smirk appeared on his stupidly handsome face. “This is my home, love,” he stretched out the vowels around the words, his voice lilting and sipping sweetly, like a soft caress to her eardrums.

_Stop this foolishness, Caroline_ , she scolded herself internally.

“What are you doing here?”

At the question, Klaus turned serious, his expression almost vulnerable. “You were...You were laughing. Happy. I needed to know why. What did my brother do to make you feel like that?”

“That’s none of your business, really,” she gulped, shivers crawling down her spine because of his words. And because of the way he followed her every move, seemed to register each hitch of breath and crease of skin, his head tilted and tongue brushing past those raspberry lips.

“You will soon find, _Caroline_ , that there is not one single thing about you that does not concern me.”

“Funny thing to say for a guy who almost had me killed the first time he saw me.”

Springing to his feet, he flashed towards her in the blink of an eye. His body pressed against her and pushed, and pushed till her back was against the nearest wall and his muscled chest crushed against her breasts.

She allowed it to happen. _Nothing_ in her protested at the touch. No, her body hummed, molding itself to fit flush against his form. Her wings, trapped under this human flesh, shivered like leaves on the wind, pulling hard, with muscles groaning as they stretched to emerge from her shoulder blades.

“But that _almost_ makes all the difference, love. Do you have the faintest idea how many times in my millennium-long existence I’ve changed my mind? I assure you, it was of scarce occurrence.”

The air between them prickled with tension, and she sensed little sparks of electricity fill the room, nipping at her magic, calling to her. Still, she stayed silent, questions dying in her dry throat before she could voice them.

His eyes flashed gold before he dipped his head, whispering, “Ask away, Caroline. You know you want to.”

“Why _didn’t_ you kill me?” A breath against his skin.

“Those witches were just so bloody irritating, don’t you think? Call it my benevolence to the city of New Orleans.”

“You said I could ask away. So frigging answer,” she spat, her tone stern.

A glint of delight crossed his face and Caroline felt it caress her nerve endings as his curious gaze wandered over her, calculating and assessing. “No one has ever dared to speak to me like that. Apart from my siblings, of course. Those disrespectful pests.”

“Probably why your ego can’t fit in any room,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Will you answer me or not?”

She watched a lump moving down his throat as he swallowed, his lashes casting a shadow on his cheeks when he screwed up his eyes. “It came dangerously close to that,” he finally uttered. “But in the end, I knew I wouldn’t go through with it.”

“Why?” Her nose skimmed along his chin, the scruff tickling her skin as she inhaled his rich masculine scent. Forest and musk and burnt wood. She just couldn’t help herself - it was intoxicating.

Leaning his head back a few inches, Klaus met her gaze, words rolling off his tongue like a song, “Can’t you feel it, love? That pull between us?” His fingers swept into her hair, nails grazing her scalp, leaving goosebumps in their wake. And his honey voice chanted in her ear, warmth of his lips spreading everywhere, “Because I can. I feel your skin thrum, longing to touch mine when we’re near. That fire that should burn so bright crackling desperately, ripping you apart to break free, to lick at me and sheathe me in its blaze.”

“No,” she balked, flinching away, away from that distracting touch.

Oh, how disturbingly familiar it felt.

But Klaus wouldn’t let go. Gently, he drew near again, gripping her chin when she averted his gaze. “It kills my wolf to see you like this. Straining to break free. I’ve been stuck like this for a thousand years. Believe me, Caroline, when I say I will do everything in my power to help you. Even if it takes Kol training you and making you laugh.”

“It’s impossible. It cannot be.”

He smiled wrily, “It’s not and it can. Your magic revealed itself the day I broke my curse. Oh yes, I checked. The day my wolf ran free again, ready to be, to live.” She closed her eyes as his thumb circled her lips, her breathing laboured. “You know it’s true, sweetheart, just as this glorious creature under your skin knows it. You feel it in your bones.” Softness of his lips rested on her eyelids, coaxing them to open again.

They did. And now their eyes were not an inch away.

“You’re my mate.”

She didn’t hear the words leave his mouth.

It was as if his whisper purred among the flames flickering at her very soul.

 

*****

 

  
Three weeks had passed and to her utter frustration, Caroline still wasn’t able to shift. Partially, she blamed it on Klaus. What a distraction he had turned out to be. He would give her space if she needed it, but never nearly enough so that she could forget his existence or the whole “mate” ordeal.

She would spend most of her time with Kol, practicing her magic, the progress she made too slow to her liking. Occasionally, Rebekah would join them, her alert gaze registering every look exchanged between her and Kol and her mouth asking the nosiest questions regarding her favourite brother.

Caroline came to the conclusion that was the Original's way of showing she’d kind of warmed up to her.

Then there were hours she spent with Klaus, scarce as they were. One evening, she had stumbled upon him in the library, all pensive and nursing a drink. Caroline had no idea how it’d happened but while she was browsing for a book to read, they started talking. First of literature, then of her life in Nola - how she had never been anywhere else. But with his melodic voice, Klaus painted a mirage of images before her, of places he had seen, art he loved, people he’d met.

And it was the same man who had annihilated a coven of witches in front of her but at the same time, she knew he was something more and something else. Deep down, that completely insane thought crawled in her mind. Insane and yet somehow she knew instinctively it was true - that just as Klaus had done everything to save his brother, he would go to hell and back for _her_. It was a truth carved by every touch of his skin against hers and spoken by every caress of his gaze.

They would meet in library almost every evening since that night. Talking well into dawn sometimes. And as much as Klaus liked recounting his experiences, he wanted to know about her. Her hopes, her dreams, everything she wanted in life.

_That was such a line_.

But he listened, his expression starved, as she cautiously revealed bits and pieces of herself here and there.

On the night of full moon, he didn’t show up. Caroline went to bed, reluctant to admit even to herself that she was disappointed. But then, in the middle of the night, something scratched at her door and a huge wolf leapt into her bedroom once she opened it.

She knew it was Klaus the second those crystal blue eyes met hers, looking at her pleadingly.

He played dirty, alright.

Especially when he began howling miserably, nudging her leg with his head until she petted him and scratched that one place behind his ears. When she finally went back to bed, he folded his body into a giant ball of fur by her side, watching her till she fell asleep.

Caroline had never slept better, the wolf’s quiet purrs like a lullaby.

To her surprise, he was gone in the morning. Only a faint memory of his naked body pressed to hers, with a burning sensation left anywhere they touched.

Things grew even more awkward and tense between them after that. So tense, these days she felt as if she was ready to combust. Klaus sensed it too, his wolf becoming more and more agitated, snappy as she rambled through the mansion restless, magic churning at her insides. Unable to touch anything or anyone because her accumulated power scorched everything to ash.

“Finally done avoiding me, sweetheart?” His drawl caught her off guard as she was aimlessly wandering around the library.

Words got stuck in her throat. Truth was she _had_ been avoiding him since the full moon. “I needed time to think,” she croaked eventually.

“And you sure as hell took it,” he grumbled.

It made her angry. Energy surged through her. “Look, I just don’t like not being given a choice! Is it really that hard to understand?!”

Klaus was by her side in a second. “A choice? You think I liked the thought of having a mate? Of being so vulnerable, so exposed to another being?! I had your life in my grasp but you’re still here. That was my choice,” he rasped crisply, space between them simmering with violent force.

Caroline couldn’t look away even if she wanted to, the golden specks flaring in his eyes and the heat emanated by his body pulling her in.

“You’ve come to live in this house of your own volition. You’ve accepted the invitation and stayed. That was _your_ choice, Caroline. It will always be your choice, whether you’ll accept our bond or not,” he went on.

It was as if an enormous weight lifted off her shoulders. Klaus never forced anything on her. In fact, it was him who freed her of the shackles those witches had put on her. Who had betrayed her as soon as she turned out to be different from them. And maybe, in her anguish and a constant swirl of magic she still couldn’t control, she wasn’t quite able to see it clearly.

It was her choice. Nobody made her stay here, with him. Maybe lack of that understanding was what was holding her monster back.

But now, staring at his feral features, the wolf in his eyes and the veins protruding under them, Caroline’s phoenix cried out, fire seething in her bloodstream. He was just like her, unique, one of the kind in this world and together, they could melt in a symphony of fire and crimson of blood.

They were the same. There was a home in the gold of his irises and it was calling to her.

And she was something else, something darker and untamed, yet trapped in this human shell, her magic subdued for so long.

_Enough._

Klaus’ breath hitched when she lunged forward, slanting her mouth over his in a searing kiss.

Literally searing.

Their lips burned, his hand on the nape of her neck and the other one trailing up and down her spine, as if to coax her wings out.

Up and down, up and down, up and down.

They got lost in the kiss, tip of her tongue tracing the steel sharp edges of his double fangs, tearing a hoarse moan from him as droplets of her blood trickled down his throat. Her fingertips tingled with flame as she sank them into his dirty blond curls, tugging, scraping, pulling. Her body roiled with magic and the heat burnt down their clothes, their bare flesh fusing together.

And she could feel him _everywhere_.

The sensuous invitation of his hands lured out the soft fiery feathers and within seconds, her wings sprang free, surrounding them like a ring of fire. Undeterred, Klaus delved his fingers into them, making her shudder, the unadulterated pleasure of the caress fueling her strength even more.

Now, Caroline was unleashed, freed to the world, energy rippling from her in powerful, chaotic waves. She was a lick of flame against his skin and a crack of fire in his ears.

And when she set her gaze back on Klaus, breath caught in her lungs at the look of unyielding admiration and hunger and lust she saw there. Next moment, he was devouring her with his lips again and she could hear the blood rushing through his veins.

_Mine,_ it sang. Mine.

She could have fled right then and there and perhaps, weeks ago, she would have.

But it was the truth. She was his as he was hers and everything else would unravel itself as they went from here.

Together.

His grip around her tightened, fingers dancing at the base of her wings, making her whimper into his mouth.

Klaus, Klaus, _Klaus_.

It tasted so well, so right on her tongue and her monster hollered, craving to hear the same.

He enveloped her completely, in a tight possessive grip and she could pick up the low hum of his body in her own.

Caroline, Caroline, _Caroline_.

Like a chorus of a song that had always been on his lips.

_Klaus and Caroline. Caroline and Klaus._

Like a fire that would never burn out.


End file.
